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Jeongguk wasn’t sure for how long he’d been sitting hunched over his desk, scribbling what he hoped could turn into lyrics and doodling in a note book with Zion.T playing through the surprisingly good speakers on his laptop. He’d gotten out of bed, made a quick trip to the bathroom and then planted his butt on his comfy desk chair.
It must’ve been hours, he realized as he glanced outside his window, the sun hanging low in the sky. No wonder his mind was fogging up, he hadn’t eaten anything all day. But he wasn’t feeling hungry. Rarely did on days like this, when he had nothing to do, no activities to set his metabolism into motion.
He smiled a little at the gentle sound of the ballpoint pen scratching the paper, clearer in the brief pause between songs. He always found the sound relaxing, satisfying.
The next song was a slower one than the previous, the beat drawing him in and making his shoulders sway.
Lost in himself, in Haesols smooth voice, in the pinkish light of the setting sun, he didn’t even notice the door to his room sliding open.
It wasn’t until he heard a tired huff, followed by the heavy thud of a body colliding with the mattress, that he realized he wasn’t alone anymore. It didn’t startle him, didn’t bother him. He might have drawn the longest straw and gotten his own bedroom, but that didn’t mean he had much more privacy now than he ever had before, his hyungs coming and going a bit as they pleased.
He glanced over his shoulder, concluding that it was Taehyung that collapsed on his bed, and turned back to his note book. For a moment, he waited. If Taehyung wanted something, he’d speak up. If not, if he just craved the company, words weren’t needed anyway.
But then he sensed it, the dark cloud his groupmate had carried with him into the room. Such things come naturally, after years of living together. As easily as picking dishes for the one who’s not present for ordering the takeout and getting it right, or knowing when to step in to prevent a fight. And Taehyung was the easiest of all to read, always wearing his heart on his sleeve around the dorm. The actor laid to rest within the walls of their home.
Jeongguk spun his chair around slowly, facing the figure now curled up on his bed large enough for two. Taehyung wasn’t looking at him, but staring into empty space, his mind elsewhere. His eyes were blank, but the sad curve of his lips could probably be seen from space.
The maknae knew his place in situations like this, when the social butterfly searched out the quiet one for comfort. Knew better than to try and start conversation before the elders bricked up mind was within reach again.
So instead of speaking, he rose to his feet, padded over to the bed and sat down on the unoccupied side, where the elders back was turned to him. Taehyung didn’t look up at him, didn’t react when he started stroking the elders arm in a soothing motion. His bare skin was cold under Jeongguks palm, and it felt wrong, because Taehyung was the human incarnation of the sun itself on a regular day.
His fingers tapped the tanned skin to the lazy beat of the music still playing, and he was humming the lyrics under his breath. Kind of like a lullaby. He could almost feel his hyungs bones grow heavier as he started to relax, as if it actually added to his weight on the mattress.
When the song ended, Taehyung curled up tighter to himself, turning his face into Jeongguks pillow and letting out a barely audible sigh. Jeongguk wondered what got him so down. If sitting there was truly all he could do to help.
Jeongguk cared for all his hyungs, endlessly so, the group of boys as much family as his own flesh and blood’s ever been. But Taehyung, he was different. Jeongguk wasn’t sure when it had started, when he’d began viewing the dork with the boxy smile as something less brotherly and more… something else. It was easily pushed aside at first, repeatedly excused as an extra strong bond between the two youngest, between him and his best friend compared to the others.
Of course, it hadn’t stayed that way. His feelings caught up to him eventually, and suddenly every lingering touch burned his skin, every sentence spoken to him in a gravely morning voice making his bones shake.
The sun was almost down by now, casting a peach colored sheet over the almost entirely white interior of his room. The last rays of sunlight toyed with the strands of Taehyungs hair, reflected on the shiny print on the back of his t-shirt. He looked small, despite being just as tall as Jeongguk, balled up by himself on a bed that was too big. Jeongguk watched him rub his thumb over a clenched fist – the way you do when your fingers are cold.
Jeongguk decidedly didn’t ask. Just shifted on the bed and lied down behind his hyung, swung an arm over his waist. He took Taehyungs hand in his own, and his heart clenched in his chest when he felt how cold they indeed were. If Taehyung was startled, if he was in any way surprised by the sudden cuddle, he didn’t show it.
There was a decent amount of distance between their bodies still. One that Jeongguk ached to close, for so many reasons it’d be impossible to list them all. But mostly because Taehyung was sad, because Taehyung cold, and Jeongguk wanted to make it all go away.
The song playing on the computer ended, shifting into “Two Melodies”, and Jeongguk closed his eyes to listen. Perhaps to try to feel the rise and fall of Taehyungs chest as he breathed in his arms.
I can’t believe I’m one of those stories
Taehyung shifted slightly, turning his head to face straight ahead again instead of pressing into the pillow. Jeongguk wondered if he found the scent of Jeongguk as comforting as he did Taehyungs.
The hand in his hold wriggled out of it, freeing itself from whatever warmth he had to offer. He had to fight himself not to chase after it, to not tense up at the lowkey rejection in the action. He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, breathing in and preparing to have his arm removed from its place where he would have liked to keep it some more.
But the dreaded moment didn’t come. Taehyung didn’t slip away, but wrapped his chilly fingers around Jeongguks wrist. Tugged at it, uselessly, because Jeongguk was too zoned in on rejection to see. Until the elder sighed, heavier and louder than before, the closest they’d come to verbal communication so far, and scooted back.
Jeongguks mind sparked, pink and fuzzy and warm and working a beat slower than his body. His held breath left his lungs, and he could have sworn the exhale held the slightest bit of joyous glitter in its mist as he pulled his hyung tighter against his body.
Spooning was a normal occurrence, something many of them craved every once in a while, Taehyung more than anyone. But it was always at safe distance, be it physical or created by their surroundings. Even if he’d sometimes pretend that wasn’t the case. But this was the first time in a long time, the first time since he began to fit the pieces of his scattered thoughts and feelings together, that he’d felt Taehyungs soft body curving against his own this way.
Taehyung made a soft noise of contentment, a sound Jeongguk had heard countless times before. But this time the tiny vibration of his throat carried between them, the younger feeling it seeping into his skin where his forehead connected with the back of the others head. The fingers around his wrist traveled down the expanse of his palm, slipping into the spaces between his own fingers and intertwining them.
If he’d had the strength, he would have backed away before Taehyung could pick up on the sound of his heart singing in his chest, threatening to overpower the music.
Of course, he didn’t. Couldn’t find it himself to want to move, perhaps ever again. He felt a sting of guilt, for enjoying himself when his hyung was feeling blue. He squeezed the fingers between his own, tried to will the smile tugging on the corners of his mouth down because it was not the time.
“It’s her birthday today.”
Taehyungs voice was quiet, just short of being a whisper, but loud enough to tear down that last barrier. Jeongguk frowned, his face buried in Taehyungs hair, taking a moment to try and figure out what that meant.
And then he realized. It hadn’t been long since the older boys grandmother passed away. Someone he loved dearly, and missed ceaselessly. Her birthday was this time of year, Jeongguk remembered. He tightened his hold on Taehyung, trying to press all the comfort he could muster through layers of clothes and skin.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
Taehyungs hair tickled his mouth when he spoke. It made his spine tingle.
“Not really.”
“Anything I can do?”
Taehyung turned in his hold, their connected hands slipping apart as the elder turned over to face him. Jeongguks heart leapt to the back of his mouth, Taehyungs breath fanning over his face suddenly. He was inches away, the sun had set and Zion.T sang about love in the distance. It was a little wrong, he was sure, but he loved it.
“Nah.” The elder breathed, throwing a glance at the arm slung around his body. “Just this.”
Jeongguk nodded slowly, eyes large and wide and tracing every tiny hair, every bump and every shadow on Taehyungs face. The older boy was nibbling on his own lower lip, fingers toying absentmindedly with the thin fabric of Jeongguks shirt. In another life, Jeongguk would have told him he looked beautiful. That he always did, but especially now, this close and slowly warming up in his arms.
Eternity passed, the faint light of day fading completely and Jeongguks playlist starting over. He’d watched Taehyungs eyelids droop, eventually fluttering closed. His breaths came out in small puffs, pouty lips parted to let them through.
Jeongguk watched his hyung sleep, the best he could in the dark that’d enveloped them by now. Tried to ignore the calls of his empty stomach, because he had no intention to move a single inch.
Sleep was tugging on him as well, drawing him closer but not pulling him in. He shifted his head the tiniest bit, leaning his forehead against Taehyungs just because he could. Because he really, really wanted to and the fog filling his consciousness told him it was safe. Right, even.
Half asleep, he thought he was dreaming it, the soft press of lips on his own just as slumber pulled him under.